Cursed by actions that weren't your own

The Pool of Jewels

Let us tell you an old story anew, and we will have to see how well you know it.

Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms that were the worst of neighbors.

So vast with the discord between them that it was said only a great hero or a terrible villain might bring them together.

In one kingdom lived folk like you and me, with a vain and greedy king to rule over them.

They were forever discontent, and envious of the wealth and beauty of their neighbors.

For in the other kingdom, the Moors, lived every manner of strange and wonderful creature.

And they needed neither king nor queen, but trust in one another.

In a great tree on a great cliff in the Moors lived one such spirit.

You might take him for a boy, but he was not just any boy.

He was a fairy.

There you go.

And his name was Wilbur.

A young boy lied lounging in a tree, using the magic that coursed through his body to make dolls spin in the air, woven of sticks and leaves. He is a kind and selfless spirit, seeing an injured branch and not hesitating to cup it between his palms, letting the bright gold color of his powers mend it back together. And when his job was completed he stepped up to the edge of the tree he called home and uncurled his large, light-brown wings. Running his hands through the soft feathers just to feel them between his fingers, something that instantly soothed him– although there wasn't much that needed to be calmed. He loved his wings, but that wasn't just for their appearance, with the bend of his knees he shot up through the foliage and flew as high as he could into the bright, blue sky.

This was the best part of life, getting to reach out his hands to touch the clouds as he glided through them, curling the appendages around his body as he plunged straight towards the ground. The wind in his hair and the sound of the world rushing past his ears was as free as one could get. Spotting the ground coming closer the fairy shot his wings open to their full span and let the wind catch them, making the boy go back farther into the air once more. He went over and under rock ledges and branches, grazing his fingertips along the moss as he waved and shouted hello to all of the other creatures. He watched as the iridescent fish jumped out of the water and landed back in, never getting close enough to touch them even if he had the urge to– he didn't want to harm them or make their lives uncomfortable in any way.

There were little creatures closely resembling goblins that swam within the water and threw mud at him as he sped past. Thankfully this time the mud strayed a tad bit too far to the left, a mistake he made sure to mock the others for. They sneered back at him with scowls on their scrunched faces, just like he had done in the past when they managed to aim with precision, but everyone could tell there wasn't a single speck of true anger in their expression and with that Wilbur's smile grew even wider.

Until he saw from the corner of his eye a small gathering taking place near the river, the blissful expression turned to one of curiosity, but the boy was still happy nonetheless. Slowing down the powerful beating of his wings he came to a stop near the center of the meeting. Right in front of him stood three other fairies he's known for as long as he could remember, and although they were smaller– about the size of his head– that didn't mean they were younger.